


that tickles

by copperwings



Series: The body hair chronicles [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Tickle Fights, bffs to lovers, mentioned JJbella in the background, otherwise it's just fluff, rated t for cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 18:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11743146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperwings/pseuds/copperwings
Summary: In which Otabek is the supreme master of tickle fights and his leg hair is inadvertently involved in the process of them getting together.





	that tickles

They get to Otabek and JJ’s shared apartment around three in the morning, and Otabek calls a soft goodnight from the door to his room before going in. Yuri uses the bathroom in the hallway and then makes his way to the living room. It’s not the first time he’s crashing on the couch in Otabek and JJ’s apartment, and it probably won’t be the last.

Yuri’s ears are still ringing from the loud music of the gig he went to see with Otabek, and his clothes smell like a mix of sweat and cologne. He discards his t-shirt on the armchair and turns to face the couch. He blinks, then groans to himself.

JJ is sleeping on the couch, tucked in under a blanket and snoring softly.

Yuri stares down at JJ and considers waking him up, but if he’s sleeping on the couch and the door to his room is closed, that means that Isabella has kicked him out of the bedroom for one reason or another. Wouldn’t be the first time JJ’s gotten himself kicked out of his own bed by his fiancée. Won’t be the last either, because JJ’s mouth talks before his fucking brain catches up and when that happens it’s best to let Isabella fume in peace. JJ doesn’t scare Yuri at all, but Isabella _does_ , and Yuri doesn’t want to face her wrath if he makes JJ go crawling back to her in the middle of the night.

Which leaves just one option.

Yuri collects his shirt from the armchair with a sigh and pads over to the door to Otabek’s room. He knocks on it softly.

There is a mumbled reply, and Yuri cracks the door open a few inches. “Can I crash here? JJ’s apparently in the doghouse again and he’s taken over the couch.”

There is a snorted laughter from the darkness of Otabek’s room, and the bedside lamp is switched on. “Come on in,” Otabek says, and Yuri opens the door the rest of the way. He goes in and closes the door after himself.

Otabek scoots over to the far edge of the bed while Yuri pulls his socks off onto the floor and drops the t-shirt he was holding on top of them. The last item to go are his jeans, and then Yuri dives under the covers in his boxers and reaches for the bedside lamp to switch the light off.

It's not the first time he’s crashed in the same bed with Otabek. They’ve been friends for a long time, and the years have on occasion found them sleeping in the same bed, piled almost on top of each other in the backseat of a van and one memorable time even squeezed together _under_ a van at Roskilde when nothing else was available. Once you have shared a sleeping bag under a van with someone, sleeping in the same bed is hardly worth mentioning.

Otabek’s bed is a weird size that’s not quite as narrow as a twin bed but not quite queen-sized either. Lying down near the edge of the bed, Yuri can feel the vibrations in the mattress when Otabek shifts, and there’s an occasional brush of skin on skin when either of them moves.

It’s Otabek’s fucking leg hair that gives Yuri a hard time, though, because every time their legs happen to brush together it _tickles_ so much that Yuri has to bite his lip to not laugh out loud.

Yuri twitches at the feather-light touches and pulls back toward the edge of the bed so much that he’s sure he’s going to fall off any second.

“What is your issue?” Otabek mutters in the dark. “You’re tossing and turning like you have fleas or something.”

“My issue is your fucking hairy legs,” Yuri grits through his teeth. “Maybe you should braid the leg hair for the night because it’s fucking _everywhere_ and tickling me like crazy.”

As a response there is a snort, and then Yuri feels Otabek purposefully shoving a leg in his direction. He can’t see it in the dark but he can almost _feel_ the shit-eating grin on Otabek’s face right now.

Yuri shoves his own foot against Otabek’s, aiming a kick at his shin. Otabek lets out a howl when the kick hits the target. “Asshole,” Otabek mutters, but he doesn’t retreat. Instead, he brings his hands into the fight, so now it’s a fight on two fronts all of a sudden; the hairy legs down south and the tickling fingers of horror up in the north.

Yuri squeals when Otabek’s fingers dig into his ribs. Fucking Otabek, he _knows_ Yuri is ticklish, _and_ he knows all the spots where Yuri is the most ticklish, too, and he’s using all this information to play dirty. The _fucker_.

Yuri curses and kicks at Otabek and tries to pry his hands off his ribcage, but Otabek has mass advantage and the tactical advantage of having lived with many siblings, so he knows all the tricks in the book. The struggle is very real and very futile for Yuri, who soon finds himself stuck in a one-armed headlock while Otabek plays his ribs like a guitar. He’s fucking _humming_ contently into Yuri’s ear as he does this, in a tone that suggests he’s currently grinning like the fucking Cheshire Cat. Yuri hisses and spits and laughs until there is no laughter left in him, only the quiet wheezing kind that’s just air coming and going in bursts that make his abs burn like hell.

“Beka, please—“ Yuri manages in between painful gasps for oxygen, and the fingers on his ribs stop for a moment. The headlock stays in place, though, and Yuri braces himself, because he knows this is just the calm in the eye of the storm and there is more to come very soon.

As soon as Yuri’s breath has evened a little, Otabek presses his mouth to Yuri’s ear and whispers like a fucking infomercial host, “But wait, there’s more—!"

“ _Beka_ ,” Yuri wheezes in a warning tone, but to no avail, because the fingers are back. They are dancing over his ribs in complex patterns, digging into all the ticklish spots, and Yuri is going to _die_ right here on this bed because of Otabek fucking Altin’s supreme tickling skills.

Otabek only lets go when Yuri has already resigned himself to death, absolutely sure there is no way he can keep breathing through this anymore. The headlock loosens and Yuri rolls onto his back and tries to catch his breath, gasping for air and feeling like he’s done the ab workout of the century. Otabek is breathing somewhere near his ear, and the evenness of his breaths is so fucking infuriating. Yuri would very much like to give him a taste of his own medicine, but apparently Otabek “superhuman” Altin is immune to tickling of any kind. Yuri has tested it on multiple occasions, and the asshole always just blinks at him and grins like it's adorable that Yuri even _tries_.

“Fuck you, Altin,” Yuri says weakly once he’s managed to pull himself back from the brink of death.

Otabek lets out a content noise and stretches the arm that’s resting under Yuri’s neck in the wake of the headlock. “What’s that, you want more?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Yuri huffs, trying to scoot closer to the edge of the bed. Otabek’s arm is still under his neck, though, and all he needs to do is flex his bicep just a bit to pull Yuri right back against his side. Then Otabek has the audacity to extend his free hand to ruffle Yuri’s hair like the annoying asshole that he is. Unfortunately, Yuri is too exhausted to smack him in the face for it.

Otabek shifts his leg under the covers but Yuri is too desensitized to tickling right now to care about his stupid leg hair anymore. Yuri calmly rests his head against Otabek’s shoulder, the skin warm under his touch. Otabek smells familiar; a little sweaty with a hint of that cologne he uses, mixed with a touch of leather and hair wax. Yuri listens to his own heartbeats slowing down along with his breaths as he lies flush against Otabek’s side, and the atmosphere is relaxed and content.

Yuri doesn’t know how many times he has been lying next to Otabek like this, in one setting or another, and wondered what would happen if he leaned in just a bit more and pressed his lips against the skin of Otabek’s neck, or his shoulder, or whatever part of him that happened to be the closest at the time. The thought flashes by again like a fleeting jolt of electricity through his veins, and Yuri is sure that in the quiet room Otabek can hear his heartbeat pick up its pace again for seemingly no reason.

It’s a balancing act, because Yuri _loves_ this friendship; the only real friendship in his life. He loves the easy closeness and relaxedness of their interactions, loves the way they can talk about everything and go to gigs and fast food places and museums together. He loves the way Otabek can suddenly appear behind him and pick him up like he weighs nothing, only to dump him down on the nearest patch of grass, or into a shrub, or on occasion into a shopping cart if they’re in a mall parking lot. Yuri doesn’t want to ruin their friendship and make it awkward by trying out something when he’s not sure if Otabek reciprocates the feelings.

Yuri is about to drift to sleep against Otabek’s shoulder when there is a muttered, “G’night, Yura,” whispered into his hair.

“Mmh,” Yuri mumbles and shifts a little closer. Otabek is comfortable.

He’s nearly asleep when something alerts his touch receptors. At first he’s not sure if he’s imagined it; the soft, dry press of lips against his temple. Then the touch registers up in his brain and for a moment the world freezes over.

Then Yuri scoots closer and smiles against Otabek’s skin.

It’s going to happen. Yuri will get the fucking prince of his dreams, who is going to annoy him, tickle him half to death every now and then and blow raspberries into his stomach when Yuri has just eaten. He’s going to get the disgusting fucking prince who burps loudly and gives Yuri shit about everything with a smug grin on his face and who doesn’t fold his laundry properly.

Yuri will get his stupid, annoying prince, and it’s going to be fucking _fantastic_.

It’s going to happen. Tomorrow, when he’s not so fucking tired.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come find me on [tumblr](https://worldofcopperwings.tumblr.com/) and talk to me about silly boys in love.  
> -  
> This is not beta read and English is not my first language, so if there are any mistakes, I apologize. Please let me know about any errors so I can fix them.


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